Entombed
by luckypixi
Summary: While on a Job in Cairo, the team is ambushed and Arthur abducted. Kept by his captives deep in the Egyptian desert, Arthur is shocked to discovered who is kidnapper is and can only pray that the team can find him before it's too late. Arthur/Eames established relationship, graphic torture. R&R?
1. Chapter 1

**A new venture into Inception fanfiction...hope you enjoy...**

'We're doing all that we can-'

'We're not doing enough!'

Cobb didn't flinch as Eames kicked the chair across the room, the metal furniture hitting the wall with enough force that the leg fell off. He took a long sigh as the Englishman turned and stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

They'd been in Cairo for the grand total of three days before they were set upon, ambushed by a group of armed motorcyclists employed by the Mark they were looking to infiltrate; a highly respected businessman with millions to lose if their team pulled the job off.

While Cobb had dived in front of Ariadne, trading blows and punches with the assailants, Arthur and Eames were set on by at least six others; they hadn't stood a chance. When Eames was thrown to the dusty pavement, a gun pressed against his temple, Arthur had seen red: he launched himself at the man, only to be tasered by another, falling, twitching, to the ground. The men sped off, Arthur bound and held onto one bike, guns pointed back to the team as they tried to run after them.

That had been eight days ago. There had been no word, no sign that Arthur was even alive. Eames was starting to come apart; he hadn't eaten, had only slept when Cobb threatened to call Yusef and have him drug him. An angry Eames was hard enough to deal with; an angry, upset, hungry Eames was another beast entirely.

The truth was, Cobb was scared. He was the only one who knew who the Mark really was. If he had told Eames the truth, the Englishman would never have agreed to participate. Arthur certainly wouldn't. Peter Woodruff, former CEO, now Head of Cobol Engineering, had put a high bounty on both Cobb and Arthur's heads. Certain circles said it was a Dead or Alive price. Cobb didn't know about that, but their current employers assured him this was to be an easy job; they needed business statements and two passwords. And they would all be rewarded handsomely. Now the whole thing had turned upside down; he only hoped he wouldn't have to tell Eames the truth.

'Maybe we should go back out and look for him,' Ariadne turned to him, eyes red rimmed. She had hardly slept either these past few days, anxiously scanning internet forums and the Dark Web for any sign of Arthur. Their employer had been entirely unsympathetic; as long as they got the job done, whatever happened in the meantime was inconsequential to them.

Cobb sighed again, rubbing a hand through his hair. 'Look where? We've been into every abandoned building in the city, all the warehouses we could find. His phone is off, or destroyed. I don't know where to look next.'

The tyre tracks had stopped at the edge of the city, on the road into the desert- they were waiting for Yusef to arrive before embarking into the arid environment; if Arthur was being held out there, he would probably need more advanced medical help than they could give him.

Cobb turned again as Eames came back into the air conditioned office unit, shutting the sweltering heat behind him. He did look awful; sweat rolled down his pale, drawn face, unshaven. It had been an open secret that he and Arthur were an item; Cobb didn't envy the men who kidnapped Arthur when Eames caught up with them.

Eames fell heavily into a chair and dragged a hand down his face. 'Yusef phoned,' he grunted, 'He's two hours away. Then we'll be able to look for him properly.'

'Good.' Cobb stood up and paced in front of the large map of the Egyptian desert they had pinned to the wall.

'Now we just have to figure out where to start.'

-x-

Arthur grunted as the cold water hit his face, slamming him back to the present. Tightly bound with wire, his arms were wrenched behind his back, his legs tied to the chair he was sitting on. He could feel warm blood running down his hands as he flexed his wrists.

He remembered very little about the past week. He remembered the fight, the gun pressed against Eames' head. The jolt of electricity against his back, the painful, bumpy ride into the desert. Up to now he had been treated well; fed and watered at regular intervals, left alone for long periods. He could only guess that he was in some kind of crypt; he had a sinking feeling that he was actually inside a pyramid, judging by the stone walls covered in hieroglyphics.

This morning, however, there had been a flurry of activity behind the stone wall which entombed him. Lots of shouting; Arthur only had a limited understanding of Egyptian, but he could tell an angry voice when he heard one. He had been dragged to his feet by a fist in his hair, throwing him out into the corridor, a hood covering his head until he was sat on this chair. No one had come in to see him for a long time, a few hours at least passed before a man, face covered with a black mask, came into the room.

He had asked Arthur who had employed him; when Arthur said nothing he received a blow to his right leg with a metal bat. When he refused again, the bat came down on his head, one strike sending him into darkness.

Until the cold water had awoken him.

'You're being very silly,' the heavily accented man told him, kneeling in front of him with the cold metal bat between them, 'One name. That's all I want. Then you can go.'

Arthur gritted his teeth, and stared above the man at the wall behind him.

The man sighed theatrically. 'Okay, if that's how you want it.' He swung the bat again and this time Arthur couldn't stifle a cry of pain as the bat slammed into his leg.

'One name.' The man repeated, swinging the bat again. 'Or shall I go back to the city and find another one of your friends to ask? Do you want me to do that?'

'You leave them alone' growled Arthur, gritting his teeth against the pain. The man nodded and knelt down again.

'Then tell me.'

Arthur looked into the man's eyes, the only part of his face he could see. Brown, framed by thick lashes, the man stared unblinkingly back.

'Do you want me to find the girl?' the man said softly, 'Watch as I pull her apart? Or maybe the Englishman, you can sit there while I make him scream.'

With a shout of rage, Arthur threw himself forwards, his forehead connecting with the man's nose as he felt the wire lacerate his wrists. The man howled with pain before his fist slammed into Arthur's cheek, snapping his head sideways. Another blow caught his nose; Arthur felt his nose break under the man's fist and he readied himself for another strike.

The door opened and two men rushed inside, also masked, grabbing his assailant and dragging him backwards. But Arthur wasn't watching them. He watched as the man with the expensive suit walked into the room, brushing lint off his diamond cufflink. He looked ridiculously out of place, but Arthur would recognise him anywhere.

Peter Woodruff. Head of Cobol engineering.

Arthur's head spun. Cobol? They hadn't had any dealings with Cobol since the disastrous Saito Job. Cobb and he had cut all ties…there was a bounty on their heads.

'Now now, Arthur, stop thinking so hard; I can see the cogs moving behind your eyes.' Peter stood impassively away from him, looking down his nose. 'I want to know who employed you to infiltrate my mind. And I want to know within the next ten seconds.' Peter said this quite calmly, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his brow.

'Your mind?' mumbled Arthur through his rapidly swelling nose. 'You're the Mark?'

'Cobb didn't tell you.' Peter smirked and let out a bark of harsh laughter. 'He didn't even tell you. What a boss, eh?' he paused. 'I'll tell you what, how about we change the rules a little? You tell me where Cobb and the rest of your little group are hiding and we can all have a little reminisce about the past? You can explain why the hell you left without completing your Job and leaving me with a ten-million-dollar black hole?'

Arthur shook his head. His head was still swimming; what kind of an asshole was Cobb to do a Job against this guy? But he would never betray them.

Peter seemed to read his mind. 'Tough nut to crack, aren't you? Doesn't matter. I've got some of the best interrogators in the business flying into Egypt in the next few days. They'll get you to talk.

I guarantee it.'

 **Thanks for reading, please leave a comment : )**


	2. Chapter 2

**I have no knowledge of Egyptian geography, so any mistakes are mine.**

 **Please leave a comment if you like….**

Eames shook Yusef's hand roughly, practically dragging him inside the office. Two hours had been a long time to wait for the Chemist and Cobb could tell that Eames was getting impatient. The Englishman was wringing his hands and grinding his teeth, tense with nervous energy.

'Eames, sorry I couldn't get here any sooner,' Yusef put his bag down next to the table. 'You know how these corporate jobs are.'

'Meanwhile, Arthur is being held god knows where, probably being tortured if he's not dead already,' Eames shot back tersely. 'Now if you all don't mind, I'd like to go out and try and find my partner, all right?'

Yusef watched open mouthed as Eames stormed from the room. Cobb walked up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. 'Yeah, he's been like this for days. Let's go and find Arthur.'

Yusef nodded and followed Cobb out into the heat, Ariadne bringing up the rear. The Egyptian sunshine scorched down on their backs as they made their way to their vehicle, Eames already sitting in the driver's seat.

'We need to check the desert, it's the only place they could've taken him, unless they've taken him out of the country. And we need to check in on the mark; Ariadne, has he moved at all? Acting in any way suspicious?'

Ariadne shook her head, pushing her sweaty hair away from her eyes as she squinted at the Englishman, 'I haven't had eyes on the mark since this morning; my guess is he's holed up somewhere, now he knows that he's the target.'

Eames hummed and started to drive, screeching out of the car park and onto the busy road. Making his way away from the busy tourist area of the Valley of the Kings, he drove in the opposite direction, before winding his way through the streets towards a quieter, yet vast, patch of sandy desert. Before they left, Cobb had suggested that the Mark wouldn't want to draw attention to himself by causing a scene in front of tourists; it was much more likely that Arthur was being held away from prying eyes.

Eames got out the car and slammed the door behind him. He had a sick feeling in his gut, somewhere between half-starved and terrified. Why had he waited so long? He should have been out day and night in this desert, looking for Arthur. If Arthur didn't make it through this he would never forgive himself, he knew that much. The sand crunched under his feet as he stepped into the dunes, bringing his hand up to protect his eyes from the dust whipped up by the harsh wind. He looked off into the distance, scanning the horizon; he could see no buildings in any direction, nowhere that Eames thought could be hiding Arthur. No matter, he thought, striding forwards. He would walk right through this godforsaken desert and out the other side if it meant he would find Arthur at the end of it.

Without looking back to see if the others were following, he marched out into the sandy desert.

-x-

Arthur breathed shallowly through clenched teeth, his ruined nose swollen and blocked; he could barely open his eyes to see as his face rapidly bruised and swelled. After Woodruff had left, he had been visited by his oh-so-friendly guard, who had seethed at him as he was made to stand in the corner of the room, watching the Point Man. Arthur could hear him grunting and muttering every now and then.

Arthur tried to breath normally, but he was starting to seriously worry now. He knew he was going to be tortured as Cobol tried to find out where Cobb and the rest of the team where; he had been tortured before, and could handle it, mostly. But he had never been tortured by someone with a personal vendetta against him before. Sure, a Mark or two, normally inside of a Dream, would throw their weight around and try and get him to reveal who had employed him. The risk came with the job. But this was different; Woodruff was making this too personal, and Arthur could tell he was in some serious, deep trouble.

Wincing as he sniffed through his nose, Arthur's mind wandered to Eames. It must've been over a week since he was taken. Where was he? Had he given up looking? Arthur shook himself, pushing the negative thoughts away. Any minute now, he thought, Eames will be busting through that door in all his angry glory, and he would be safe.

Arthur's head snapped to the side as the door opened again, crashing against the wall. A man walked in, half his face covered by white material. He carried with him a dark blue holdall and Arthur's heart sank, filling his stomach with cold dread. The man said something to the guard, who stalked out of the room, returning a few moments later dragging a small wooden table behind him. The newcomer thanked him and placed the holdall on the table.

'I've been instructed,' he said in a thick accent Arthur couldn't place, 'to ask you where the rest of your team are. If you do not answer the question, I am then instructed to _make_ you tell me. So, I suggest that you tell me.'

Arthur tried to form words from his dry mouth, lips sore and cracked. 'I'm not telling you anything,' he croaked.

The man sighed and nodded. 'I thought that would be the case. Well,' he clapped his hands and opened the holdall, pulling out a small pair of pliers.

Arthur felt his heartbeat speed up when he saw the instrument, but he forced himself to remain calm.

The man approached him, reaching out to grasp his right forearm.

'Let's get started then, shall we?'

-x-

'He's not here. He's not bloody here.'

Eames slammed the corrugated iron door and exited the tumbledown shack. Ariadne stumbled backwards as Eames pushed past her.

'Eames!' she shouted, turning and grabbing his arm. 'Just stop, alright. Just stop. We need to think, we need to look at the map again.'

'We're wasting time looking at that map! We've been looking for what, four hours now? We're no closer to finding him and it's getting dark. We need to keep moving!'

'You're no good to Arthur if you kill yourself looking for him.'

Eames stopped and looked at her; she looked unblinking back at him. He sighed and rolled the muscles in his neck.

'He's not here,' he murmured again, so quietly Ariadne almost didn't hear him. 'What if we don't find him? What if he's dead already?'

'You can't think like that; Arthur's tough, he'll make it through.'

Eames nodded and turned, making his way back to where Cobb and Yusef were standing. Yusef was studying the map, crossing off places they had already looked.

'There's nothing else in this area,' he said as Eames approached, 'about 10 miles east there's a small cluster of shacks; further than that, a few isolated crypts deeper into the desert. We could start there tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?' Eames turned to him, incredulous. 'Give me a torch and I'll go there now. Alone.'

'Why don't we head back into town and re-supply?' suggested Cobb. 'Tents, food, water, torches. Medical equipment for Arthur.'

Eames nodded, already on his way back to their vehicle.

'Come on then!' he called back. Cobb watched his rapidly diminishing back as he walked off. He knew of an old contact in Cairo that he could call on to help; Beni owed him a favour.

-x

Arthur hissed through the pain, his jaw and neck sore from clenching his teeth together. He closed his eyes again and the man moved forwards, extending the pliers to his little finger. He felt the now slick teeth grip his nail, and he held his breath.

He counted three seconds before his fingernail was brutally ripped from its bed, a shout of pain tore from his throat.

'You can make this stop,' his torturer, whom he had decided to call Half Face, on account of his white mask, told him, inspecting and then flicking his bloodied fingernail in his face. 'All I need is an address, somewhere where they can start looking.'

'Go to hell.' Snarled Arthur, forcing his breathing back under control. The ends of his fingers felt like they were on fire, yet painlessly numb at the same time.

The man tutted before flexing the pliers again. Arthur watched as Half Face came slowly closer and closer, until he filled his field of vision. 'There are more like me coming. More brutal, more unforgiving. You should tell me now and spare yourself the agony.' He leaned in closer, and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Arthur spat blood in his face.

Half Face wiped the blood from his eyes and laughed. A shrill sound that set Arthur's teeth on edge. He laughed as he packed up his holdall, zipping it carefully. He was still chuckling unnervingly as he opened the door, slamming it behind him.

Finally, Arthur was left alone. His head swam with pain and thirst, his stomach clenching uncomfortably. His fingers throbbed, leaking blood onto the dirty floor.

The silence became deafening, filling his ears with a hollow, roaring sound. Somewhere, outside the door, someone turned a tap on. A steady dripping sound echoed around the room.

Arthur let out a groan. It was going to be a long night, he figured.

He tried not to imagine the horrors that awaited him in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur let out a bloodcurdling scream as the blow torch was held to his right foot. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the room, the fabric of their clothes. The Point Man's chest heaved as he was wracked with sobs, unable to catch his breath before the flame was applied again. 'No…' he gasped, his eyes and nose running. 'Stop…please!'

'Tell us!' yelled the masked man, holding the blow torch aloft. 'Then all this stops!'

'No…' whispered Arthur, 'I won't.'

'Very well' He held the blowtorch closer and the screams resumed.

'Stop! Stop it! I'm going to kill you, I'll kill you all!'

The screams echoed from the walls, filling his ears with vicious sounds….

'Stop!'

The hiss of the blowtorch was barely audible as Arthur heaved and sobbed, choking on air he couldn't get into his lungs….

'I'll kill all of you bastards!'

'Eames!'

'Eames, wake up!'

'EAMES!'

Eames jolted awake. He was sprawled on the floor of their office, papers and maps strewn over the floor. Cobb was knelt next to him, one hand on his shoulder, the other clutching his own bloodied nose.

The Englishman looked at him, his chest heaving with emotion after his horrific nightmare.

'I'm going to…' Eames barely turned before he vomited on the floor, Ariadne moving swiftly out of the way. Yusuf had moved away and perched himself on the side of a desk, surveying the scene.

Stomach churning, Eames got to his knees, pushing himself up. He could feel the sweat on his face, his head buzzing with fatigue and hunger. The dream had been so real, it was like he was really there. He could see Arthur, hear every sound he made. He shuddered.

'You alright, Eames?' Cobb asked, moving to stand next to him.

The Forger nodded. 'Sorry about all that.' He motioned to Cobb's nose. 'Didn't break it, did I?'

'Don't worry about it. It's you I'm worried about.'

'You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine.'

'Goddammit, you're not fine!'

Eames jumped, opening his mouth to protest.

'No, save it!' Cobb looked at Ariadne, 'You and Yusuf go and find something to eat. We need to regroup and rethink.'

The pair left, casting furtive glances back at them both.

'Eames, I'm not letting you step one more foot out there until you eat something that isn't sugar, drink something that isn't alcoholic- '

'Hey, you can't order me aro- '

'Right now, my only concern is Arthur. If you want to kill yourself before we find him, that's your lookout.'

Cobb ducked the punch easily and caught the Englishman's elbow, throwing the weakened man onto the sofa.

'I'm not trying to kill myself.' Eames let all the fight leave him, slumping into the sofa. Cobb released his arm. 'I just keep thinking…awful, terrible things. I just need to forget, to clear my head.'

'Something tells me Arthur doesn't have that luxury.'

Eames sighed and sat up, scrubbing his hand down his face. 'I'm being an arse, aren't I?'

'No,' Cobb sat next to him, 'you're just worried.'

'Hmmm.'

The pair sat for a while, waiting for the others to come back.

'I've never had someone this important to me before.' Eames mused quietly, more to himself than Cobb. 'I can't lose him. Not now.'

'Cobb!'

Both were stung by Yusuf's sharp cry and bolted to their feet. The Chemist was stood by the door, his face pale as he held the small cardboard box in his hand.

'It was outside the door.' He explained, bringing it inside. Ariadne followed him, wiping her hands frantically on her trousers.

'Eames, maybe you shouldn't- 'she stuttered.

But Eames had already seen the red liquid seeping through the paper onto the white table.

'No…' he whispered, sitting heavily in the desk chair. He reached forwards with shaking fingers and gently prised the top of the box open.

They all held their breath as the contents was revealed. Eames swallowed another lurch from his stomach as he saw what could only be Arthur's little finger, severed at the knuckle, displayed inside. There was a note attached.

 _Payback time_

-x-

Like his face breaking the waves under a churning sea, Arthur was slammed back into consciousness. The Point Man shivered, his teeth chattering as he looked down at his hand.

His latest visitor had taken a souvenir. The blackened stump on his left hand had been crudely cauterised, but at least it had now stopped bleeding. He knew he was in shock, knew he had to stay calm. His mind kept wandering back to Eames, trying frantically to remember how many days he had been here in this godforsaken dungeon. They were keeping him just on the edge of thirst and hunger; his lips were cracked and his stomach tightened painfully.

There was a scrabbling outside the door and it opened slowly. Arthur could barely summon the energy to see who was coming in.

When he did look, it wasn't what he was expecting. A man he once knew from his Cobol days, a Daniel Smith, crept into the room.

'So, it's true then?' he murmured, putting his hands on his hips. The years had not been kind to Daniel; he had a sun-worn face and scraggly brown hair framed his gaunt features.

'They finally dragged you back in.'

Arthur shook his head, but stopped when the motion made his ears ring. He tried to speak, but the blood from his eyebrow and nose had congealed to form a mask on his skin.

'Wait, here.' Daniel fetched a cup of warm water from the table in front of him and held it to his lips. Arthur sipped it gratefully.

'I'm here to help you.' Daniel told him, using his sleeve to wipe Arthur's lip.

'Why?' croaked Arthur, his throat stinging. 'You're still working for them.'

'They'll let you go. As soon as you tell them were Cobb is, they'll let you go.'

'Not going to happen.'

'You're being an idiot!' Arthur flinched as his ears rang painfully. 'They're only interested in Cobb; he's the one who double crossed them. What would you do?'

'I wouldn't use threats and torture to get my own way.'

'Woodruff only wants to talk.'

Arthur let out a harsh bark of a laugh, sending him into a coughing fit. His broken ribs were in agony as he convulsed. 'Yeah, right.' he gasped, wincing. 'And I suppose all this is his idea of 'knocking me around a bit'?'

'Tell me where he is and I won't tell them about you and Eames.'

Arthur felt the blood rush from his face. 'There's nothing between me and Eames.'

'Save it,' Daniel waved his hand. 'If you don't tell me, I'll tell them all about the pair of you and he'll be the first one to die. There. Nice and simple for you.'

'You wouldn't.' Arthur whispered.

'Try me.'

Arthur's head spun. Cobb for Eames. If they were still torturing him, that surely meant they had no idea where to look. That meant that he still had time. Cobb still had time to get him out of this mess.

'The answers still no.' he said heavily.

'Fine. That's the last time we play it nice.'

Daniel stalked from the room, leaving Arthur sitting there, stomach churning with nerves.

His back ached from sitting still for so long, his ribs crossed each other when he breathed in. He could feel his fingernails start to scab over, but his hand still throbbed painfully from his amputated finger.

The sweat beaded on his forehead, robbing him of vital fluids. He pulled his arms up, testing his bonds.

If the others weren't coming for him, he had to try and get himself out.

Arthur didn't even have time to scream as the door opened and two men stormed in. He head was wrenched painfully backwards and his sleeve pulled up until his arm was exposed.  
'What're you...'  
The needle jammed, unforgiving, into his skin and he fell into unnatural blackness.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur could feel the thrumming vibrations under his body. His head felt stuffed with cotton wool and his mouth burned as he swallowed. He was moving. Actually, he thought as he stretched his legs out, it felt more like he was flying. He was on an airplane. This was unexpected; after the jab with the needle, Arthur had expected to wake within a dream. Not on an airplane.

With his eyes blindfolded, he was still in complete darkness, but at least he wasn't bound to that chair any more. His hands were still sore, but as he gingerly flexed his fingers, he felt the stiff holds of a bandage covering where his little finger used to be. That was new. How long had he been in the air? Where was he heading to? He tried very hard to listen past the sounds of the engine. He heard snoring, a man. He heard the rustling of paper, the sound of a plastic drinks bottle being crunched up. Someone coughed nearby. He lay very still. He didn't want to alert anyone to the fact that he was now awake. This new development troubled Arthur. Where were they going? Why was he still alive? How would the others ever find him now? He felt footsteps approach him and forced himself to breath evenly. He would just have to lie low and wait and see what happened next.

-x-

Cobb looked up at the knock on the glass door. Eames swallowed his burger, and wiped the sauce from his lip. It was now late evening and Yusuf and Ariadne had crashed for the night. Cobb and Eames were finishing off the last of the food before they turned in as well.

'We expecting someone?' he asked, reaching for the gun he kept in his waistband. He stood up, but Cobb put a calming hand on his arm.

'That'll be Beni,' he said, moving over to the door. 'I told him our location last night- he used to be in the Special Forces and knows the desert here like the back of his hand. I got him out a tough spot a few years ago and figured he owed me.'

Eames nodded wearily and sat back down. He watched as the man entered. He looked nervous, his eyes skittering around the room. Eames watched as Beni caught sight of the box which had arrived earlier in the day, and his hue turned from pink to a brownish green. His breathing quickened and he turned away sharply. Eames' eyebrows rose.

'Cobb.' Croaked Beni, extending his hand to the Extractor, 'We meet again.'

'Seems so,' agreed Cobb, shaking his hand. 'We need you to help find our friend.'

'Your friend, Arthur, right?'

Cobb's eyebrows shot up this time. 'How did you know his name? I didn't tell you any names over the phone.'

Eames anticipated Beni's next move, reaching forward as the man shouted and whipped out his gun.

'Make on more move and I'll blow your brains out.' Eames told Beni calmly, his own gun pointed squarely at the back of his head.

Beni dropped the gun. 'I had no choice,' he stuttered, 'you know what Cobol are like-'

'Cobol?' Eames looked quizzically at Cobb, 'What's Cobol got to do with anything?'

Cobb took a deep breath; he knew he had to handle this situation calmly and now bitterly regretted not coming clean earlier. 'The Mark.'

'What about the Mark?'

'I never told you, never told any of you; the Mark is Peter Woodruff.' Cobb didn't break eye contact with the Forger.

'Peter Woodruff?' repeated Eames dumbly. 'The Peter Woodruff? The most cold-hearted sadistic bastard in the entire dream-sharing business. That Peter Woodruff?'

'Yes.'

'You bloody idiot. You stupid bastard. Why the hell would you do an extraction from him? Of all people? And not tell us? There's no way Arthur would've agreed to this!'

'Arthur didn't know. I didn't tell him because I knew he wouldn't agree to it. Think about it, Eames, this payload is half a million each! None of us could pass this up!'

'You fed Arthur to the lions!' Eames shouted, the gun now pointed at Cobb, 'They've had him for days, doing God knows what. They've taken his finger off and posted it to us, for God's sake! They could be hammering down the door any minute! And you!' he pointed the gun back at Beni, who shrank back. 'How did you know it was Arthur who had been taken? How did you know-' Eames fell silent as the pieces fell into place. 'You told them where we are- that's how we got his finger; you delivered it to us. You're working for Cobol!'

Cobb watched as the red mist descended behind Eames' eyes. There would be no talking him down now.

'Tell me where he is.'

'I don't know where they're holding him.' Beni stammered.

'Bullshit. You know. You picked up his bloody finger, for God's sake!'

'I only knew where you were after Cobb told me! All I know is that they've moved Arthur and surrounding this building.'

'Moved him?' Cobb moved forwards. 'Moved him where?'

'I don't know. I have to give the signal for the men to move in on this place. If I don't report back, they'll know something's wrong.'

Cobb pinched his nose. 'After all these years, Beni. All we went through.'

Beni watched him sadly. 'I didn't know they had tortured anyone. Not until this morning, when they gave me that box.'

'No, I don't believe you!' Eames held the gun up again. 'You've known where he was all this time-'

'But I didn't know where you were! That is what Woodruff is after. He wants Dom to answer for the Saito job. He wants to know what went wrong and he wants his revenge.'

'Tell us where he is and I'll find a way to get you out of this,' implored Cobb. 'Give them the signal and let us escape. We'll keep you safe.'

Beni considered this. He knew he didn't really have much of an option; if he didn't agree to help, he knew the Englishman wouldn't let him leave. He nodded and Cobb sighed, motioning for Eames to put the gun down. Eames did so very reluctantly.

'Now,' Cobb said quietly. 'Tell us where they were holding him.'

'They moved him this morning, I don't know to where. But I know he was being kept in a crypt to the west of Cairo.'

Cobb nodded, running to grab a map off the wall. 'Mark it.'

Beni did so and reached into his jacket pocket. Eames trained the gun on him, but relaxed when Beni only pulled out a radio. He tensed up once more when Beni raised his gun.

'Beni,' Cobb warned, 'don't do anything stupid.'

Beni nodded and pointed the gun to the floor, firing four times into the carpet. He then clicked on the radio. 'It's done. All terminated. Tell the Boss.'

He flicked off the radio and put the gun down.

'Give them five minutes to vacate. Boss won't be happy; he wanted you alive, Dom.'

Cobb hummed and moved to pack a bag.

Yusuf and Ariadne walked wearily into the room from the small sleeping room, Ariadne with her gun drawn.

'It's ok,' Eames told her, motioning with his hand. 'it's all under control. We know where Arthur is. Or was.'

Ariadne nodded. Beni took a calming breath and walked to the window. He pulled back the blind and leaned forwards, squinting in the harsh sun.

'Beni, keep away from the-' Cobb shouted a warning, but was too late.

Glass exploded over the room as Beni slumped to the floor, the bullet hole bleeding on his forehead.

'Bloody hell, they'll even kill their own men.' Gasped Eames, moving to check Beni's pulse. 'Dead.'

'Dammit!' growled Cobb.

Eames held up a thick book at the window, obstructing the sun. Nothing happened. 'Looks like our trigger -happy business men have gone.' He observed.

'Maybe,' agreed Cobb, moving to the door. 'But they could be back any minute. Stay low and get to the car.'

'Let's go.'

-x-

Eames kicked the door open, his gun drawn and fire in his eyes. The crypt echoed with the sounds of their footsteps, but otherwise was silent. There was a faint dripping sound, but Eames marched on, Cobb and Yusuf following; Ariadne had been left to lookout at the car.

The tunnel curved to the left, sloping downwards slightly. It was deathly silent, Eames's own breathing filling his ears. It got colder as they walked on, and Yusuf pulled his clothes tighter.

'Wait, look.' Cobb motioned towards an open door, then pointing to the floor; the sand and stones were all scuffed up around the doorway.

Eames nodded and holstered his gun. He walked forwards and stood looking into the room.

'Fucking hell.'

A table with bottles of water stood in front of a spindly wooden chair, wire wrapped around the arms and legs. Eames's breathing quickened when he saw the pools of blood on the floor. Spotting something else, he knelt down to pick the small object up.

'Is that…'

'Fingernails.' Confirmed Cobb grimly. He was about to say something else when he saw what else was displayed on the table. A postcard. On it, in bright letters was written a place name, surrounded by pictures of tourist destinations. A cheap, tacky gift. He turned it over to see the handwritten note.

'Eames' he said sharply, his voice ringing in the silence. 'I know where they've taken Arthur.'

Eames took the card. On it were written only two words.

 **With regards**

He turned it over, swearing when he read the destination.

Mombasa.


	5. Chapter 5

They caught the next plane out of Cairo into Mombasa. In nine hours' time, they would have their Point Man back, Cobb was sure of it.

Eames had fallen into a reluctant and fitful sleep, his face scrunched up into a frown against the warm window of the small plane. The next plane into Mombasa happened to be a small business jet, with only a few other passengers. Yusuf and Ariadne were looking over the maps of Mombasa they had found in the airport lobby, but Cobb knew there was only one place they would take Arthur.

Cobol Engineering Compound, a vast network of white stone corridors interlinking in an octagonal shape. If they got him in there, Cobb knew it was going to be nearly impossible to get him out again. They were only a few hours behind Arthur, if they could intercept him, maybe they could get him that way.

Eames twitched in his sleep, muttering something unintelligible. Another nightmare.

Cobb craned his neck to catch Ariadne's eye. They needed a plan of action.

No room for mistakes.

-x-

The heat hit Eames as they stepped off the plane onto the tarmac, taking his breath away. There was always the initial hit before he fell right back into the feel of this place, a place he had come to regard as his second home. Many a winter he had spent, relaxing among the locals, when he wasn't working that is. And there were some damn good casinos here.

They made their way to the terminal, Moi International, the red sign welcoming as always. The air conditioning cooled them as they walked in, but a flurry of activity slowed them down. Men in uniforms were scurrying around, one with a megaphone, another translating next to him.

'What the-'

Cobb turned to him, grabbing his elbow and pulling him sideways. He scanned the signage on the placards hastily erected next to the check-in desk. Looks like they didn't need their plan of action after all.

'The computers are down. They're not letting anyone leave. Look.' He pointed at the throng of people pressed up against the sealed outer door. 'We're the last flight in, right?

'Right'

'And the computers have been down for hours. That means there's a chance…'

'That Arthur's still here.' Finished Eames, now alert and watchful. 'They wouldn't take him through the airport, surely.'

Cobb shook his head. 'Less conspicuous that way. Think about how much attention they'd draw to themselves if they bypassed security. He doesn't have a private terminal; that means they've got to be here somewhere. The other terminal is blocked too; this is our best chance.'

Eames nodded and walked away, hands in his pockets, but eyes sharp. Now they just had to find Arthur among all these people.

-x-

Arthur winced as someone jostled his hand. Mombasa. He should have known this is where they'd take him. Why he was still alive, he had no idea. What Woodruff had planned for him, he had even less idea. Pressed against the wall between two burly men in combat fatigues, his hands sweated in the thick leather gloves he had been forced into wearing. They had put large sunglasses over his eyes to hide the bruising and he was trying to favour his left leg; he kept falling sideways, only to be propped up by his angry guard. They had been here for hours, stuck among the crowd of people, steadily getting squashed against this wall.

Through his darkened glasses, Arthur scanned the crowd. With his basic knowledge of Swahili, courtesy of Eames, Arthur deduced that the computer terminals were down, causing the backlog. His stomach bubbled nervously. He brought the water bottle to his lips, thankful for the warm water trickling down his throat. Any minute now, they would be out those doors and off into the dark realm of Cobol. To whatever horrors awaited him there. Arthur's heart sank as his eyes shifted from face to face. Tourists and holiday makers mingled with businessmen and women, all sweating and overheating in this place, like caged animals.

He would never see Eames again, that he was sure of. Not his awful green suit jackets, or his bright shirts. Not his chiselled face, not his dark blonde hair. His eye caught on a man in green, dark blond hair plastered to his forehead. No. He moved on, his head feeling fuzzy. His eyes closed. His stomach felt like it was made of lead, his legs buckling slightly so he was leaning heavily against the wall. What was the point? Once he was through those doors he was never coming back- he let his mind wander to waking up in Eames' bed, legs entwinned. Eames laughing. Shouting his name happily, a smile on his broad face.

'Arthur!'

Just like that. That sound that always raised his spirits.

The last time they had spoken they whispered plans of how to spend Arthur's birthday next month. Just the two of them.

'Arthur!'

His voice, deep and sombre one minute, the next high and happy.

'Arthur!'

Arthur's eyes snapped open, his pulse racing so fast he saw stars. He had definitely heard his name that time.

'Arthur!'

His guard reached for his gun as Arthur sprung away from the wall, eyes wild. The Point Man scanned the crowd again, then he saw him. Eames, Cobb not far behind, was running towards him. His face was hopeful, eyes bright.

'Eames!' croaked Arthur, but as he went to move, he was wrenched backwards by his guard. His stomach dropped when he saw the raised gun.

'No!'

He lunged for the gun, shouting in pain as he closed his injured hand around the metal. His guard shook his arm and Arthur felt the breath leave him as the other, forgotten guard, levelled a punch at his stomach. He fell heavily to the floor, gasping.

Eames saw red. Pulse roaring in his ears, he ran that last few metres towards Arthur and knocked the gun from the guard's grip.

Cobb swiftly took out both guards with his silenced pistol and deftly caught them as they fell to the floor. The crowd went on as if nothing had happened.

'Arthur, love, what have they done to you?' Eames knelt down beside Arthur, reaching out and cradling his head, fingers checking for his pulse.

'Took your time, didn't you?' murmured Arthur through hasty breaths, eyes still closed.

'Sorry' whispered Eames, smiling through shiny eyes.

Arthur cracked a small smile, wincing as he coughed. 'My hand…'

Eames moved him gently to the side, releasing his trapped hand. He hissed when he gently prised the glove off. 'Jesus.'

'It's not so bad now.'

Eames grimaced and looked around. He signalled and Cobb and the Extractor nodded.

'Time to go, darling. Before they send in reinforcements.'

'Go where?' Arthur's head swam; he could feel the blackness sweeping in.

'No no.' Eames shook him. 'You need to stay awake before we get you back on that plane. You need a hospital.'

Arthur nodded as Eames gently lifted him to his feet, laying his head down on the Forger's shoulder. His head really did hurt.

They had only walked a few yards when they heard activity behind them. They turned in time to see one of his guards, blood trickling from his mouth, raise his weapon, firing it before falling back to the ground, unmoving.

The searing pain in his abdomen was like fire, and it sent a jolt up to his brain, before the coldness crept it. The ground came crashing up to meet him and he distantly heard someone shout his name.

Someone screamed, people ran.

A body hit the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

'They've even given us a twin room, how lovely is that?'

Arthur scoffed as Eames peered at him from the other side of the room. The Forger had a thick bandage around his middle, and the strict order to not move too much. The bullet had lodged in the muscle of his stomach, but was mere centimetres from doing damage to his liver. He had been very lucky.

Arthur, on the other hand, was on strict bedrest. A broken left fibula, several broken, two bruised, ribs, various cuts and contusions. Daily MRI scans to test for brain damage after swelling was detected after his many blows to the head. The space where his little finger used to be was stitched and bandaged, and all his fingertips were covered in bright white plasters. And he was on intravenous antibiotics for 48 hours to stave off infection. All in all, not good, but Arthur knew it could've been so much worse.

They were settled in a high priced, private hospital in Mombasa, paid for by Cobb, who had flown back to America the day before with Ariadne; Yusuf had gone home to rest before visiting daily. There was no scuffle getting out of the airport; everyone parted to let them through, the staff calling an ambulance when they saw Eames bleeding on the floor. There had been no word from Cobol, but Arthur knew they wouldn't be too far behind. Once they had both healed enough and released to fly, they would be back on their way to the safety of America. But that was several days away yet.

'Penny for your thoughts?'

'Only a penny?' Arthur sighed and looked over at his partner. Eames grinned back, before wincing and pulling a face.

'Remind me never to get shot again, alright Arthur?'

'Sure, if you remind me not to get tortured again.'

Eames' smile fell and Arthur felt a flush creep up his cheeks as the Englishman regarded him. He hadn't been able to sleep properly for days, kept waking up in a cold sweat in the early hours, disorientated and bewildered. His only constant was the warm weight of a hand tightly clasping his own. Eames had been scolded by the nurses more than once after being found lying awkwardly across the side of Arthur's bed.

'Want to talk about what happened, love?'

Arthur felt his pulse speed up and swallowed roughly. 'No,' he said forcefully, before smiling at Eames. 'not yet. Maybe another day.'

'Hmm.' Eames regarding Arthur carefully, taking in his bruises, the dark patches under his eyes. He was pale, he thought. He wanted nothing more than to hold him in his arms, kiss him, and tell him it was all going to be alright. Eames knew it wouldn't be, at least not yet. Arthur was fiercely private and could get very defensive and angry if pushed too far; Eames knew he had to treat carefully. But Arthur would open up to him, he was sure; he had done on several occasions in the past where events had hit him hard.

'Penny for your thoughts, Eames.'

Eames snapped out of his reverie and shot an easy grin at Arthur, who had forced himself up into a sitting position. 'Careful,' he told his Point Man, 'You'll pull all your stitches.'

Arthur flapped a hand at him, flicking his IV line impatiently. 'Can't wait to leave this place.' He mumbled, frowning.

'Only a few more days, that's what nursey said.' Eames told him cheerfully.

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes. 'Got work to do.'

'Oh no you don't!' Eames barked, 'Cobbs' sorted it all out, squared it all with our employer.' He tapered off, voice hardening. 'Can't believe what he did though, still can't bloody believe it.'

'Me neither.' Arthur had spoken to Cobb, briefly, after he came around from major surgery. The extractor had apologised and explained himself, voice stuttering and eyes wet. And Arthur had forgiven him, on the basis that Cobb told him who each new mark was from now on. No more secrets. Cobb agreed and hastily made his exit, a fact that angered Eames.

'Then he does one, and doesn't even bring me a bunch of grapes to cheer me up!' he cried indignantly.

Arthur grinned, 'Eames, you don't even like grapes.'

'Not my point, Arthur.'

Arthur rolled his eyes and smiled.

Only a few more days and he would be home, in his own bed, with his own books and coffee and clothes. With Eames muttering and fussing around him. He winced as he flexed his hand too much. Losing a finger would be hard to get used to. Usually he could shoot with both hands, but he figured that might be a bit difficult now. But with some training, he thought he could probably master it. He still couldn't pick anything small up as his fingertips were still numb; Eames had laughed good naturedly as he struggled to pick up his painkiller, before they switched to a liquid dose.

He still couldn't stop the panic which threatened to swallow him whenever he heard running water. Or when he was sat on a chair in front of people. He couldn't stop waking up every night sweating and shaking. But that would heal in time.

Eames' voice lulled him back into the present. 'Earth to Arthur. You zoned out and completely missed the discharge doctor. He spoke to you and everything.'

Arthur's eyebrows rose. 'And what did he say?'

'Well, I can leave; my incision has healed and there's no sign of damage to my innards. You on the other hand-'

'Yes?' Arthur's breath sped up in anticipation.

'He said you could tag along too, unless you wanted to stay?'

'Dear God no!'

'He's going to come back with papers to give our doctor back home. Strictly no flying, mind you. Looks like we have to take the scenic route home. You can take antibiotics by mouth now, he says. And your brain looks fine, apparently, but I set him straight on that one.'

'Of course you did.'

A nice cruise back towards wet old England, where Eames always retreated to lick his wounds. Arthur could hardly wait. They needed to good old R&R.

Until the next job, that is.


End file.
